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Patricia Reding

Oathtaker

Synopsis

An Oath Sworn.
A Struggle Engaged.
A Sacrifice Required.
When Mara, a trained Oathtaker, is drawn by the scent of the Select to battle underworld beasts summoned by the powers of evil to destroy the guardians of life, she swears a life oath for the protection of her charge.
Armed with a unique weapon and her attendant magic, and with the assistance of her Oathtaker cohorts, two ancients, and a spymaster, Mara seeks safety for her charge from one who would end Oosa’s rightful line of rule, and from assassins who endeavor to bring ruin to the land.
As Mara puzzles to decipher ancient prophecy concerning her charge, as she is haunted with memories of her own past failings, she discovers the price her oath will exact.
To renounce her word would be treasonous; to fail, ruinous; to persevere, tortuous.
Abiding by an oath requires sacrifice.

Author Biography

Multi-award-winning author Patricia Reding leads a double life. By day, she practices law. By night, she reads, reviews a wide variety of works, and writes fantasy. She lives on an island on the Mississippi with her husband and youngest daughter (her son and oldest daughter having already flown the nest), and Flynn Rider (an English Cream Golden Retriever). From there she seeks to create a world in which she can be in two places at once.
Oathtaker: The Oathtaker Series, Vol. One, won a GOLD medal in the Literary Classics Int'l Book Award Contest, also won an award in the Readers' Favorite Int'l Book Award Contest, and was named a Finalist in the Beverly Hills Book Award Contest. In addition, WindDancer Films has asked to take a look at it . . .
Select: The Oathtaker Series, Vol. Two, won a SILVER medal in the Literary Classics Int'l Book Award Contest and earned a Finalist award in the Readers' Favorite Int'l Book Awards Contest.
Ephemeral and Fleeting: The Oathtaker Series, Vol. 3, won a SILVER medal in the 2017 Literary Classics International Book Award Contest.
Sign up for Patricia's email list at www.PatriciaReding.com.

Author Insight

New Encounters

Readers . . . meet Rowena. Let me take this opportunity to say a little something about "names." I think they are very important. I believe that every time you call someone by a name, you are reinforcing the thing that it means. So, for this story, I wanted to stick--for the most part--with real names that had real meanings. I know there are fantasy aficionados out there who think that all fantasy stories have to include the use of odd and often unpronounceable names. Typically they include apostrophes, and "hard" consonants, like K's and X's. But, I reject that theory. I cannot tell you how many times I've picked up what looked like a great fantasy, then tossed the book aside the minute I discovered that it included the use of such names. I'm sure I've missed some great stories, but I read for pleasure. I won't go through the trouble of sounding out a name every time I read it. Thus, in general, I use easy, "real" names in my stories. For my purposes here, "Rowena" worked. I've found various meanings for it, including, "fame," "joy," and "fair." Based on the description of this woman, "fair" seemed "fair." Don't you agree?

Book Excerpt

Oathtaker

“I am,” she began. Her voice broke. She gasped as another contraction took hold. When it passed, she continued, “Rowena.”

“Good, Rowena. I’m Mara. I can help. Just relax. You’re going to be fine. Now, let me take a look here.” She removed Rowena’s coverings, then touched her tentatively. “Just relax now, you’re safe.” She examined her. “The child is near. I need to go to the river for water, to get some supplies, and—”

“No,” Rowena interrupted. “Please, listen carefully.” She struggled with each word, each breath.

“I’m listening. Take some steady breaths. That’s it. Relax.”

“I will not survive this birth.”

“Hush! Hush, now. Don’t you say such a thing.”

“I must tell you. Please, listen,” she sputtered out between chokes and gasps. She grew ever more agitated. Though weak, she grasped Mara’s wrist with urgency.

“What is it? You tell me, and then we’ll see to this new gift from Creovita, the life giver.”

Rowena loosened her grip. “I am a.” She winced with the pain of another contraction. “I am.” She cried out. Tears spilled. “A se—” She struggled to catch her breath. “I am a—”

“You are what?”

“Se—seven.”

“You are seven. Seven what? Leagues from home? That’s not so far. I’ll help you to get there afterwards, or to get word to whomever you like if you can’t make the journey right away. That needn’t concern you. Now let me see what I can do here.”

She shook her head again. “This child is—” She sucked in a breath. “This child—”

“Surely, this can wait. Yes? You need to save your strength. We have some work to do here.” Mara pressed her hands against her shoulders to lay her back again.

She rested for a moment, then her eyes opened large. “Listen, I haven’t much time. I’m a seventh. She is a seventh.”

“A seventh? A seventh! But that can’t be!” The Oathtaker pulled back. She thought for a moment, then looked at Rowena closely, her eyes narrowed. “Oh, dear Good One, are you the Rowena? Rowena Vala? The ranking member of the Select?”

She nodded.

“Goodness! But . . . who’s ‘she?’ Was there another seventh with you? Are there two of you?” Mara glanced about. Nothing indicated that anyone else had been there.

Rowena struggled as a powerful contraction bit. She clenched her teeth. “I’m a seventh,” she continued when the contraction ended, her voice steady and clear for the first time. “A seventh daughter. This child, my daughter, will be a seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, and the ranking member of the first family. You must save her. Take her. Run. Promise me, I—” She choked down a sob. “I can trust you. Yes? You’re an Oathtaker.” She sucked in a breath. “I’m counting on you. Please . . . tell me I can trust you.”

“Dear Good One! Rowena, your child could be my assignment—my charge!” The Oathtaker’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I’ll help you! But first we have to get you through this labor. Oh, if this child is a girl—”

“It is a girl. Help . . . me.”

Mara picked up a nearby cloth and wet it with water from a canteen hanging at her waist. She placed the cloth on Rowena’s forehead, then retrieved a blanket from her pack to cover her against the chills that had come with her loss of blood. Once done, she examined her again. The child’s head would soon crown. Mara hoped a few strong pushes would do it, as Rowena had little strength remaining.

After pouring water into a cup from her sack, she rummaged through her dried herbs to find a relaxing, pain-numbing tea blend. When she tore it open, the smell of green permeated the air. She could not brew a tea without a fire, but it would steep at least some in the tepid water.

“Here, drink this.” She helped Rowena lean forward, then put the cup to her lips.

She drank, then turned her face away as another contraction took hold.